


Made the Dice Dance Long Enough

by th3rm0pyl43



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Analogies and Metaphors Oh My, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Gaslighting, M/M, POV Third Person Omniscient, The Author Regrets Nothing, mutual comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 19:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13508598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/th3rm0pyl43/pseuds/th3rm0pyl43
Summary: In the immediate aftermath of their reunion four weeks after the incident on Wobani, Thrawn and Veers sort out their feelings.





	Made the Dice Dance Long Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Who Dares, Wins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9678380) by [FesteringSilence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FesteringSilence/pseuds/FesteringSilence), [White_Rainbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/pseuds/White_Rainbow). 



The stained white tunic and the duffle bag had landed on a table, discarded to quickly make space on the bed. Clothes had sloppily been thrown on the chair next to it, boots left in a heap at the footboard. The lights had been dimmed, the twinkle of pale starlight falling into the bedroom through the viewport.

Thrawn could not quite put his feelings into words even if he tried. Guilt had been a tremendous burden on him for the past month - one he had brought upon himself in a rare moment of foolish naivety. Now that he had chosen the right path to walk, had chosen the higher road, he felt as if the unbearable weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

The Chiss dipped his head and buried his face in the crook of Veers’ neck. Their bodies were pressed as closely together as they could be, arms wrapped tightly around each other, legs all tangled. Years ago, he had survived his exile on a world where he might as well be the only humanoid being, and now four weeks of isolation were enough to make him completely starved of touch. Veers forgiving him and accepting him back into his life, even asking for his hand in a bond that would celebrate their love in the records of the starships they called their homes, was a blessing from the stars that he could hardly be more humbled by.

Thrawn gently ran his palm across Veers’ back as the general’s chest heaved with another sob. Tears of joy stained the pillow, and when Thrawn looked up, his heart swelled at the affection in Veers’ gleaming eyes.

“I missed you so much” Veers croaked, a wide and crooked but genuine smile on his lips as he was overcome with raw emotion. “I-I thought I had lost you. I was… drifting, aimless… couldn’t imagine a future without you. I…”

Otherwise Thrawn would have gently silenced his fretting with a kiss, but he had to let Veers speak his mind now. He listened to those words heavy with relief, thumbs wiping the tears away with tender circling motions.

“I love you, Max” Thrawn said softly, feeling warmth blossom in his chest; this felt right and and true. “I cannot express how grateful I am that you took me back.”

Now it was Veers who crushed his lips to Thrawn’s almost desperately. The kiss was hungry, needy, craving reassurance that the other was _real_ and not a dream conjured up by a broken heart. Thrawn tightened his hold on Veers’ waist and let his tongue caress the general’s soothingly. _I am here. I am real. I am with you_.

Veers gradually stilled. Thrawn’s presence and closeness had been a little overwhelming at first, but now the shock was beginning to wear off. He was ready to continue where he and his beloved had left off.

“Thank you so much, _ch’eo vur_ …” he murmured, resting his forehead against Thrawn’s.

The soft ruby glow of the Chiss’ hooded gaze spoke volumes. Veers leaned in for another kiss, much lighter than the previous, then shifted to lay his head on top of Thrawn’s chest and listen to his slow, steady heartbeat. Stars, he had missed the sound of it. Accepting that it might just continue beating without him had been painful, keeping him awake when he needed to rest.

“Max…”

Thrawn lifted a hand to gently run his fingers through Veers’ hair. He now knew he couldn’t have kept deluding himself that he did not need the general - _his_ general, that he could live without the warm, comforting light of Veers’ soul showing him his way. He _needed_ him more than anything or anyone else. Veers was the other half of him that he had not known he’d been missing before they had met.

“I love you, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

Those four words were enough to make him feel like he was exactly where he was meant to be. Thrawn let his fingers caress Veers’ cheek, sighing at how much he had missed feeling the warmth of that strong, resilient body. His hand wandered to the general’s shoulder, thumb toying with the hem of the black tank top covering his upper body. A fingertip brushed across an old scar lining the curve of rugged muscle - and then he froze, suddenly feeling cold inside.

Veers frowned as he felt Thrawn’s pulse quicken and lifted his head, eyes concerned.

“Is something wrong, my love?”

Thrawn exhaled shakily, and both he and Veers sat up simultaneously.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“N-no, Max, no… I just…”

The Chiss’ posture stiffened involuntarily.

“On the holo-transmission… I saw Ozzel brandish that knife and those… _tools_. When you were in the medbay, there were bandages around your chest. How… how badly did he hurt you, Max? You had lost so much blood when I found you…”

“It’s no matter, Mitth’raw’nuruodo. I’m fine. Do not feel guilty about what Ozzel did.”

Thrawn had to shake himself out of his momentary daze. He blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the resurfacing memories chasing each other in his distraught mind. Ozzel’s outright _disgusting_ smugness as he made his Max bleed with that horrific knife of his. Four _Thunderers_ sharing progressively disturbing gossip over the ways Lord Vader might have avenged their general. Ozzel’s words seeping under his skin like poison, himself failing to pull the trigger until the damage had already been done. Tarkin imploring him to fix the mess he had caused, opening his eyes to the feeling of _wrongness_ that had been festering like an open wound.

Veers’ warm hands finally snapped Thrawn out of his circling thoughts. He knew all too well that even a brilliant mind could be deceived. When he spoke again, his tone was gentle, yet firm, and his eyes were clear and lucid like precious gems from the bosom of the earth, alight with the desire to blow away the last obstacle that kept him and his beloved from walking their road together until death did them part.

Rubies met amber, and Veers knew that this very moment was going to make or break Thrawn’s peace of mind regarding what had happened on Wobani.

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo, my love, I want you to listen to me closely” he began, choosing his words carefully while he steadily maintained eye contact with Thrawn. “You are _not_ responsible for the many horrible things that have happened to me and will continue to happen to me regardless of what either of us does, because the very nature of my position renders them a thing that are quite simply ‘part of the job description’. I am a general of the Empire and am spoken of as an illustrious man and a war hero. There will _always_ be people howling for my blood. I have survived everything the galaxy could throw at me, and I’ll keep on doing that until I die peacefully as an old man.”

Veers paused. Thrawn blinked once, and his wide-eyed expression softened ever so slightly, though Veers had a feeling that what he had said so far was of little comfort. Inwards he grimaced at what he had to say now, but he wanted this matter to be resolved once and for all.

“Ozzel’s words may have been lies” he went on, “but as much as it pains me to say it - to every lie told even by the most venomous tongue, there is a grain of truth, however small. You _did_ change many lives significantly, but I am not talking about those you may well have changed for the worse, or even ended. Not about Konstantine, or Pryce, or Vanto, or Lyste.”

Thrawn blinked again, confusion evident in the way his eyebrows twitched. Veers allowed his own expression to shift into the hint of an encouraging smile.

“Without you, we would never have won the war, Mitth’raw’nuruodo. Without you, we would still be fighting against an enemy who just would not give up their damn hope. Without you, the galaxy would be a wretched place torn apart by endless civil war, criminal vultures picking at its dying body already. You and I and Wil and Orson and Firmus and Lord Vader, we made it a place worth living in again. A better place.”

Veers gathered a breath, steadily keeping his hands on the sides of Thrawn’s face.

“And most importantly, you changed _my_ life - for the better, without a single doubt. When I lost my wife, I thought I could never truly love again. After my greatest failure as a commander, I felt like I no longer had any purpose until I met you. You are the bright star that has always been guiding me whenever I lost my way, _ch’eo vur_. You are the river carrying me on your waves even when I was shipwrecked, giving me the strength I needed not to drown. You are the lighthouse on the shore of a stormy ocean, steadfast and truthful and reliable even in the face of the primal wrath of the sea.”

Thrawn’s lips twitched, and Veers could swear he could see his wide eyes begin to glisten with moisture.

“Denon is where I come from - but when I’m with you, I am home.”

It indeed was the Chiss’ turn to weep now. A choked sob escaped him, and he simply slumped forward into Veers’ welcoming embrace, burying his face in the crook of his neck yet again. Veers cradled him in his arms, one hand soothingly stroking his back while the other ran through his hair. He held Thrawn close to his chest, whistling softly through his teeth and rocking him gently as quiet sobs shook the Chiss’ shoulders.

Otherwise it would have been cause for concern if the two of them needed this much reassurance at once, but they had been separated for four entire weeks. It was only the right thing to do to comfort each other to the best of their abilities.

For Thrawn, every day without Veers had felt like being lost in the deepest woods in the darkest hour of the night after straying from his lit path in an act of sheer deluded folly, forfeiting any sense he had for the passage of time. He knew well that trying to cut himself off from him was the greatest mistake he could possibly make, of course, but the venomous fangs of Ozzel’s words had already pierced his skin and clouded his judgment to the point of drowning out the voice of reason he had always listened to. Piett had once said in jest that the day the master strategist would allow his heart to dictate his decisions rather than his head would be the day Mustafar froze over and spring bloomed on Hoth.

For Veers, every day without Thrawn had been an odyssey. The explanation he had been given - that he would only suffer as long as he was a part of Thrawn’s life - had sounded perfectly valid from a logical point of view, but he had rejected it with every fiber of his being, and violently so - righteously so. In the first week he had hardly showed up to duty, only for his second-in-command to find a sobbing heap of misery on the bed in her quarters. In the second week, a group of _Thunderers_ who went to practice hand-to-hand found the remains of a dismembered and completely ruined training dummy strewn across the hall’s floor, a mustache crudely drawn on the cotton-stuffed puppet’s battered head. In the third week, Veers had been full of murderous rage towards a dead man for feeding lies to his beloved, and had stayed away from his Herd for fear of hurting them in an outburst of aimless violence, preferring to take out his anger on dummies and punching bags in a secluded gym. In the fourth week, he had finally swallowed his pride and sought professional help, realizing that he could not keep being a slave to his pain and still had an army to lead, broken heart or not.

They both had made the dice dance for long enough, worrying when the next thing would test the strength of their bond. Now Thrawn was firmly convinced that if it had held even through _this_ , then there was nothing in the galaxy that could break it.

Resting against his beloved general’s chest, finally at peace, at _home_ , the Chiss’ tears dried as the minutes passed, and Veers continued to hold him close, vowing to himself and to the stars to never doubt their deeply mutual affection ever again, come war or disaster.

Not long from now, it would be set in stone, their union celebrated as the bond of two valiant hearts, two brilliant minds and kindred souls, the love that spanned the vast reaches of space; recorded in the history of the vessels on which they sailed the stars together. A precious little part of the feared Death Squadron and the gracefully deadly _Executor_ would always fly with the esteemed Seventh Fleet and the stalwart _Chimaera_ , just as the silver Star Dreadnought would carry a part of the Star Destroyer emblazoned with many arms encircling its core.

The lone green pine in the cold flourished again when spring came and melted the snow away, and the white rabbit shed its winter coat, curling up to lie nestled in the roots of the mighty tree and watch it reach for the sun at its height to spread its protective branches out as far as the rabbit’s adventures would lead it.


End file.
